“Are you feeling well?” the mayor of Comoros asked her, pausing in his narrative of Crabwell’s demise. “You look as if you did not sleep soundly last night.”
“I did not sleep at all,” she replied. There were so many ghosts in this palace still, so many things that reminded her of her father. Many of the Leerings, she had discovered, especially in his personal chambers, had been chiseled from the walls or defaced so that they would not work. Almost as if he had been unable to bear them looking at him. “Go on, Justin. I am sorry.”
“What I was saying is the evidence of what happened is unclear. Was Crabwell pushed off the tower, or did he jump? There was a hastily written confession that implies he killed himself, but that could also have been forged. Or he may have been duped into writing it.”
Maia sighed and glanced at Suzenne. Her friend frowned, indicating she too had trouble believing it was a suicide.
“So there is no evidence he was murdered or by whom?” Maia asked.
“None,” the mayor replied, shrugging. “My lady. Let me say this delicately. People feared Crabwell. No one loved him. I really do not think it worth the bother of an inquest. No one cares how he died, only that he is no longer the chancellor. It is a relief that he met his end by a hand other than yours, and will not oppose your coronation.”
Maia gave him a stern look. “But should we not order an inquest into the murders, Justin? My mother, my father, and the chancellor have all died in rather short order. If we do not follow due process, someone may one day try to assign the blame to me.”
He looked shocked. “No one would dare accuse you!”
“I told you this earlier. Lady Deorwynn, I understand, was the one who hired a kishion and allowed him to enter the realm. He then was the headsman at her own execution. I want him found, Justin. If not for him, my bones would be moldering in an ossuary right now. He will never meet his fate by my hand, but I cannot permit a kishion to defend my throne. He is acting on his own motives, I believe. I would send him away in peace, and with my gratitude, but he needs to go if he will not abide by the laws and rules that govern my life and my reign. I fear it will be difficult to hunt him.” The thought of losing such a staunch ally and friend grieved her, but she was determined to see her purpose through to the end. Of course, exiling such a wily predator would not be easy, and she knew it.
He frowned, looking at her seriously. “My men are frightened,” he said softly.
She nodded. “They should be. He is dangerous, but he is only a man.”
There was movement at the head of the hall as one of the soldiers responded to a knock on the door, and to Maia’s immense relief, her grandmother came striding into the audience chamber. Maia broke away from the mayor and Suzenne and rushed across the hall to pull her grandmother into an embrace.
“I am so grateful you are here!” Maia said, nearly bursting from joy and relief. “Word arrived that the refugees from Assinica have come to Muirwood. I had hoped to visit you there tonight through the Apse Veil.”
Sabine clung to her for a long moment before pulling back and tipping Maia’s chin up with her finger and thumb. “You are exhausted.”
“Sleeping here is dangerous, I have discovered.” Maia shuddered involuntarily. “Suzenne kept me company all night, but it is taking its toll on her.”
“What about Gideon?”
Maia winced at the pointed question. “He does not want the people to worry he is controlling me, so he has been giving me room to rule. He is making arrangements to return to Dahomey by ship. There is trouble in his kingdom, incursions by Paeiz and now Mon. We have not seen as much of each other as I would like. He does not stay in the palace at night.”
Sabine gave her a weighing look. “He is your husband, Maia.”
She nodded. “I know. You can understand that this entire situation is rather unusual.” She smiled wryly. “My husband holds my heart, but there are so many problems pulling us in opposite directions right now. Would that we could both escape somewhere and spend time alone.”
Sabine hooked arms and led her back to the bench near the throne, where Suzenne was dozing.
The mayor stepped back and bowed. “High Seer, greetings. Your arrival was unexpected.” He scratched the little strip of beard on his bottom lip and then snapped his fingers. “I will summon some refreshment for you. Cider and cheese?” He clapped his hands, motioning for a servant lingering in the doorway to approach.
“Thank you, Lord Mayor. I came to speak to my granddaughter.”
“Of course,” he said, and excused himself with a gracious bow. Suzenne, who had gathered her wits, rose to greet Sabine, though she seemed uncertain of how formal their greeting should be. They had all been on familiar terms at Muirwood, but it was different at the palace.